Battleland's Mark Thompson reported yesterday that the United States is installing a customized Aegis Ashore System in Romania, approximately 150 miles from Count Dracula's castle. The entire cost of the makeshift missile defense syst, which is designed to protect the Eastern Balkans from an Iranian missile, will be borne by the United States. "I want to suck your budget" Dracula reportedly told DoD officials.

Something weird is happening in the Golan Heights these days. Yesterday, Syrian rebels captured twenty-one Filipino soldiers that were part of the UNDOF mission that monitors the border between Syria and Israel.

Put aside any questions that you might have about the wisdom of the rebels' strategy for a moment, because there are a few related events that are either strange coincidences a heavy dose of irony, or something else entirely.

Last Friday, Croatia announced that it was withdrawing its 100 soldiers from the Golan Heights following media reports that they were working with Saudi Arabia to supply weapons to the Syrian resistance. According to the New York Times, Saudi Arabia was purchasing surplus infantry weapons that were used in Yugoslavia's wars of succession from Croatia and funneling them to the rebels. Croatia's foreign ministry denied the reports, but then quit the peacekeeping mission because of claims that they were no longer safe.

This marks a new sophistication in the effort by Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Qatar to supply the rebels clandestinely. It also comes with a heavy dose of irony. After all, Croats and Serbs accused Saudi Arabia of supplying their Bosniak rivals with weapons during the Bosnian Civil War. Now, Croatia is working with the Saudis to supply the Syrian rebels with the same weapons. That's ironic.

How is all of this related? Why would a rebel group attack a UN outpost when they desperately need international support and when the Golan Heights have little strategic value in the civil war? Maybe Croatia's hasty withdrawal, yesterday's attack on the UNDOF, and arms pipeline are connected, maybe they're not. -DBM

When I think of international borders, it often seems romantic or dangerous to me. But most borders are, in fact, really boring points in what is usually the middle of nowhere. Perhaps that's why the U.S. deployed additional drones this year to monitor our border with Mexico; the work is too dull and boring for sentient beings to do.

Not all borders are so unremarkable, though. States and their proxies have been caught trying to alter borders by moving stone markers under the cover of darkness in the past in South America and West Africa. (Note to self: this would make a good future post.)

Croatian beer

Slovenian beer

Kalin is a rustic inn that's conveniently located in Slovenia and Croatia. Come for the food, but stay for the diplomatic intrigue.

One of the better border stories involves a tavern that strides the Slovenian-Croatian border. These two former Yugoslav republics have struggled to settle some lingering border issues following their 1990-1 split.

The row centers on the Bay of Piran, a small body of water that ordinarily wouldn't be so consequential to international relations. It is, however, Slovenia's only connection to the Adriatic Sea, without which they would have no sovereign waterway connection to the south. Croatia claims that it's their territory, too. Due to ambiguities in Yugoslavia's 1974 constitution, Croatia and Slovenia have failed to come to an agreement, despite interventions by the European Union.

As a result of the controversy, some of the Cro-Slo border crossings have been a little tenser than normal in the last decade. On the outskirts of the Slovenian town of Obrezje sits Kalin, a local tavern. The border between the two states runs right down the middle of the bar. So, the building has two doors. One leads to Croatia and the other goes to Slovenia. Your passport is necessary to enter and exit Kalin, which I can only imagine is a little difficult to manage once you've had a few drinks in you. There is also a yellow line down the middle of the bar denoting the border (see pic below). Needless to say, the situation there is a little weird.

The situation over the Bay of Piran is not over, but I have a solution: the great Kalin summit of 2012. This summer, Croatian and Slovenian diplomats can get together over a few piva at Kalin. It wouldn't be the first time that inter-Balkan issues were settled at a bar; a key breakthrough in the Dayton Accord negotiations happened at an off-base sports bar. So, if these two states are ready for a serious discussion, give me a call and I'll book the next flight to Ljubljana. The first pivo is on me!